Fairy Tails Through Cages
by Nemo Returning
Summary: A fairy tales book for little wizards and witches. Approved as a pre-school reading by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. Revised Edition. Editor D. Umbridge. [Ch.4 The Pink Beauty and the Piebald Beast]
1. Title Page

**A/N** This is a worthy companion to my fic "Harry Potter and His Worst DayMares", where it makes its first (but not the last!) appearance as a single "fairy tail" from Remus Lupin's favorite book (a school-time gift from the late Sirius Black).

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**Disclaimer A:** All the ideas behind this story belong to our illustrious and industrious Ministry of Magic.

**Disclaimer B: **All the personae and events mentioned are strictly fictional and exist only in my non-existing imagination. 

**Disclaimer C: **No magical beasts or creatures were injured during the writing of this story. 

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*** EX LIBRIS * REMUS LUPIN * (around a paw-print in the top right corner)**

_From Padfoot to Moony, best dishes and bla-bla-bla _**(scribbled across the page)**

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** *~*~*   
  
FAIRY TALES THROUGH CAGES **

**_Revised Edition_**

**_Editor D. Umbridge_**

**_Approved as a pre-school reading _**

**_by _**

**_the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain_**

***~*~***

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	2. The Little Werewolf and the Red Cap

**Disclaimer:** See disclaimers A, B, and C on the title page of this book.

**Summary**: A fairy tales book for little wizards and witches. Approved as a pre-school reading by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. Revised Edition. Editor D. Umbridge

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***~* THE LITTLE WEREWOLF AND THE RED CAP *~***

Once upon a time, my dear children, there lived a happy wizarding family in the Forgotten Forest - a widow and her werewolf son whom all called just Little Werewolf, because he was indeed a little werewolf and as such didn't need any other name. There must have been a father too once in this happy family but Little Werewolf didn't remember him at all (well, maybe only his taste a bit). 

One fair morning Little Werewolf's Mummy merrily removed all the bars and unlocked the heavy trap-door to her son's cozy cellar.

"Rise and shine, my sweet Moonydoom! You're going on a trip today. Your favorite granny has fallen gravely ill."

"Which granny? The one that sent me a silver spoon for my last birthday?"

"Yes, darling, the one that loves you the most. Your other granny sent you only a silver pin."

"Um... Mummy?"

"Yes, Moonydrum?"

"Wouldn't she like to enjoy her favorite grave illness alone?"

"Of course not, my Moonydrill! What the point is there to suffer alone, with nobody to compl... eh to share the moment with?!"

"All right, all right... I only wish that her grave illnesses would not always happen together with my full-moon periods…"

And so our Little Werewolf started his long journey through the beautiful and friendly Forgotten Forest.

In the sunny clearing before their house a small gathering of centaurs were reverently reading the new "Daily Prophet". Little Werewolf knowingly smiled at the expression of soft wonder and deep awe on their almost human faces.

Then he crossed the Bridge where a bunch of playful goblin kids were collecting money for the Ministry-supported charity funds. Little Werewolf had no money in his pockets (he didn't have any pocket-infested clothes to begin with) but it didn't stop him from supporting the noble cause with all his cute little heart.

**[Now, this is just a fairytale, remember, children? So let us all pretend that magical creatures can feel just as us wizards do. D.U.]**

After the Bridge the trees grew older and higher. Little Werewolf was cordially greeted there by a hundred of Muggle tourists. They all accidentally stumbled upon this unplottable secret place and were now patiently waiting in a line to be Obliviated by our watchful and courteous Aurors.

The Forgotten Forest grew even higher and darker around him, but our Little Werewolf was afraid of nothing. For though he was only a small and slow-witted creature he was confident that our government would protect _all_ its law-abiding subjects.

He merrily waved his hand at the pack of Wizard-Friendly Vegetarian Vampires Which Officially Refused to Drink Blood.

**[They all did it voluntarily and willingly and not just because it is prohibited by Ministry's laws. D.U.]**

The vampires cheerfully grinned back to the polite little beast.

His way lay through the darkest part of the forest now. The lane became very narrow and twisting here. And just after the twentieth turn Little Werewolf saw that somebody was waiting here for him. And that, my brave children, was nobody else but 

**THE BIG AND TERRIBLE EVIL RED CAP!!!**

But of course the poor puppy-werewolf, what with him having spent his whole life in our well-protected and lawful world, knew nothing about evil things which still dare sometimes to disturb the Perfect Order of the Wizarding Britain.

"Oh, what a meeting. Our Little Moony-Ding-Dong..."

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Red Cap."

"Where are you going, Little Moony-Dung, if I may ask?"

"I'm visiting my favorite Granny, Mr. Red Cap. She's gravely ill."

"What, again? Oh, I simply MUST visit her. I would've done it ages ago, but couldn't find her house."

"That because it's unplottable."

"Oh, I know, I know... Believe me, little one, I know it only too well... Um... Could you please tell me how to find it?"

"Of course, Mr. Red Cap."

And so our silly, silly Little Werewolf explained to the evil Mr. Red Cap all the driving directions and passwords opening the wards to His Favorite Granny's House!!!

**[Don't worry my dears, there will be a new law one day soon, restricting for all the lower magical creatures any unsupervised access to wizard-inhabited areas. I promise. D.U.]**

And so it happened that when the Not Too Bright Little Werewolf was happily enjoying a cup of English Breakfast Tea with his gravely ill Favorite Granny, the door burst open and the Hungry Looking Red Cap appeared before the frightened family. 

The monster licked its thick scarlet lips and grinned.

"Bone appetite, everybody!"

But Little Werewolf's Favorite Granny stood and cried angrily:

**I WILL COMPLAIN TO THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC!!!**

And such was the force of those words that even this foul creature stopped in its tracks and hesitated for a moment. But, alas, children, even in our prosperous and enlightened times (guarded by the vigilant and honorable Law Enforcement Department of the Ministry of Magic) there still are some wretched monsters who just chose to remain beyond rescue!!!

And so the wretched monster swallowed them all: the werewolf, and the werewolf's grandmother, and the werewolf's grandfather's portrait, and the werewolf's grandfather's clock, and the werewolf's grandmother's silverware... which was a big mistake from his part.

Well, it is uncomfortable enough, my sweet children, to be swallowed by a Red Cap. But if you also happen to be a werewolf and a bit wary of your grandmother's silverware, your situation might become even more unpleasant.

Fortunately, the Wizard-Friendly Vampires, who were peacefully gnawing at a tree bark nearby have heard Little Werewolf's desperate howling and came to his Favorite Granny's House to investigate. 

**[Now, it must be made clear that the Vampires came here because they all felt the threat to their beloved forest's harmonious and law-abiding life and not at all because they were lured here by promise of blood as their less civilized brethren would have been. **

**Because, my little ones, you must know, that there still are few magical creatures that are not yet cooperating with our esteemed authorities. But rest assured, my obedient ones, that the authorities in question _will_ cooperate accordingly with those who refuse to cooperate with them. D.U.]**

When theWizard-Friendly Vampires saw what was happening they immediately alerted the Muggle tourists who immediately alerted our brave Aurors who promptly brought the Evil Red Cap back to its senses.

And so they rescued them all: the werewolf, and the werewolf's grandmother, and the werewolf's grandfather's portrait, and the werewolf's grandfather's clock, and even the werewolf's grandmother's silverware...

Of course, Little Werewolf was severely reprimanded for his irresponsible behavior; and all the wards around his Favorite Granny's House were fully changed to prevent further incidents. 

And they all returned after that to their otherwise happy and healthy lives under the wise and loving guidance of our Almighty and Benevolent Ministry of Magic.

***~* THE END *~***


	3. The Bremen Town Magicians

**Disclaimer:** See disclaimers A, B, and C on the title page of this book.

**Summary**: A fairy tales book for little wizards and witches. Approved as a pre-school reading by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. Revised Edition. Editor D. Umbridge

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***~* THE ****BREMEN**** TOWN MAGICIANS *~***

Once upon a time, my sweet children, there was a wizard who had a carriage and a Thestral to go with it. But now the Thestral became too old for flying and could perform his duties no more.

**[Which was rather irresponsible from its part. A good household creature must not outlive its own usefulness. D.U.]**

To his credit, the Thestral still had some sense of duty left. And so one day he left and set out for the nearest Muggle settlement of Bremen, where he thought he could become the town's best scarecrow.

**[It is fortunate he couldn't fly anymore. Otherwise some of the smartest Muggles would've gotten suspicious from the sight of a flying scarecrow. D.U.] **

After traveling some distance he came across a fully dressed House-Elf sitting atop of a heavy looking trunk. 

"What are you doing here?" asked the Thestral.

"Me bad, bad, bad Elf. Me _very, very,_ _very_ bad Elf, good sir Thestral, sir. Me squib Elf. Me can do not magic. Only can do cooling charms. Can not make hot tea for my master. But master so kind, no blames his useless Elf at all. He even gave his unworthy Elf all his best old socks. Me very rich, rich, rich now! Good sir Thestral, sir wants my best purple socks, please, sir?"

"Thank you, and stop banging your head on the trunk. You'll damage the lid; it's only iron after all. Let's go to Bremen with me instead. I'll be the town's best scarecrow and will help you guarding your precious socks."

"And me be town's best wizard!!! Me can do cooling charms!!!" 

**[As they say, among Muggles even a squib is a Founder. D.U.]**

And so they continued on their way. Soon after they met a bespectacled ginger Kneazle who was reading a large book, holding it upside down. 

"Now, what is such a nice, clever Kneazle like you doing here, alone on the road?" asked the Thestral, surprised.

"I was thrown out of my mistress' house because of my sheer stupidity," guiltily replied the Kneazle. "I was foolish enough to let humans know that I can speak their language. When my mistress learned about it she was so disappointed with me that ordered me to leave immediately."

**[A very wise decision, I dare say. A pet that can understand and speak a human language is not to be entrusted with access to its master's private life. D.U.]**

"Why don't you come along with us to Bremen? I'll be the town's best scarecrow and the House-Elf here going to be the town's best wizard."

"And I'll be the town's greatest wise cat then and will open a school for orphaned mice and rats!!!"

And so they continued on their way. Then they passed an abandoned owlery where a Snowy Owl was perched on the roof and hooting with all her might.

"Your hooting gives me the chills", said the Thestral. "Why are you screaming like this?"

"Because I'm lost."

"But you're a postal owl. How can you be lost?!"

"My master sent me with two letters to two different ladies of his but I mixed them up. Both ladies got very upset with him and sent me back with howlers. Then my master got very upset with _me_ and started screaming _Get lost, you stupid bird!!! Get lost!!! _ …Well, so I did. Oh, my poor _owlless_ master…"

**[She should be grateful he didn't send her to a more remote location. Such negligence in carrying out one's duties is unacceptable for our otherwise superb postal services. D.U.]**

"Why don't you fly along with us? We're off to Bremen. I'll be the town's best scarecrow, the House-Elf here going to be the town's best wizard, and this Kneazle is simply bound to be the town's greatest wise cat. Besides, it's much more interesting to be lost in a big city rather than in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, then I'll be the town's most lost owl!!" 

And so all four of them continued the journey together. By evening they came to a forest, where they decided to spend the night. But the Snowy Owl spotted a light burning in the distance. She called to her companions and told them there must be a house nearby. And they all set out toward the light. Soon they reached a Death Eaters Den brightly lit with green flame torches. The secret Dark Revel was in full swing.

The Snowy Owl flew up to the window and peered inside.

"What do you see, whitehead?" the Kneazle asked.

"What do I see?" replied the Snowy Owl. "I see a black altar covered in blood and pumpkin juice and some dark robed wizards standing around and enjoying themselves."

"Do you see any meat?" asked her the Thestral.

"Plenty of fresh meat, some even rather nicely dressed".

**[Don't' worry, children, the bird was merely joking. Contrary to popular belief, so-called Death Eaters need something more casual to eat and drink than death itself or its humanoid byproducts. And so do Thestrals, by the way. At least it is true for legally registered, taxable species which had undergone the proper wizard-friendly training in full accordance with the Ministry issued guidelines. As for homegrown or illegally smuggled in the country beasts, no guarantees against their cannibalistic tendencies can be made. If you are not completely sure about the means which your parents had obtained your own "little horsy" with, all you have to do is to send a note to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures of the Ministry of Magic. They will take care of the situation. Sweet dreams, my little ones. D.U.]**

"Dressed, said you, good Miss Snowy Owl, Miss? Are there any socks in there?" eagerly cried the House-Elf.

"Lots of white socks. Only, they wear them on their heads for some reason."

"How about mice?" asked the Kneazle. 

"No mice. But I can smell rats."

"That would be just the place for us!!!" cried everybody in unison.

"You're right!" said the Snowy Owl. "If only we could get in!" 

And the animals started discussing a plan to drive the Death Eaters away…

***~***

Some time later in the night the unsuspecting Death Eaters were rendered speechless when a rather ugly-looking ginger kneazle's head showed up in the open window frame of their not-quite-humble abode. The head sniffed scornfully at those assembled inside and hooted thrice, softly but ominously.

Then it disappeared, only to be replaced promptly by a drowsily blinking owlwhich suddenly opened her beakand begin to neigh in such a harrowing manner that even most seasoned Death Eatersstepped back in commotion.

They were in for an even more profound shock when a thestral's muzzle and front legs settled themselves comfortably on thewindowsill; the hoofs cladin _abominable_ purple socks, adorned with _dismal_ lime laces and embroidered with _heart-wrenching_ carroty flobberworms. The toothy muzzle beamed to the petrified assembly and squeaked cheerfully,"Me greetings, good sirs dark wizards, sirs!!!" 

The poor Death Eaters were openly trembling in terror now. Yet they still might've come back to their senses were they be given some time to recover. 

But the horrible vision of thestralian purple socks was followed by a house-elf in big round spectacles and an immaculate bow-tie around its neck.

The monstrosity smiled politely and spoke with a smooth, slightly purring voice on flawless Queen's English, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. May I be as bold as to inquire upon your precious health?"

And that was the end! Driven beyond any endurance, reduced to a terror- and panic-stricken crowd, the vicious and ruthless Death Eaters fled off, far, far away from this terrible house. Death Eaters and dark wizards they may be, but a human brain is able to grasp only _so_ _much_ of Truly Supernatural. 

Some of them even forgot about the anti-apparition wards surrounding the place and got split while trying to apparate back home, but their fate is quite a different story.

**[For the most inquisitive of my dear little readers I would advise to look for the answers into Your Humble Servant's book "Azkaban: the Beacon of Justice". D.U.]**

As for the four victorious companions, they delightedly gathered up all the trophies left behind by the luckless previous owners of the house, and then sat down at the abandoned altar and started eating, drinking and celebrating in every way possible, as if there was no tomorrow…

When they finished they put out all the green-and-black flame torches and looked for a place to sleep, each according to his nature and custom.

The Thestral lay down on the skulls and bones heap in a corner, the House-Elf, safely, behind a big poison pot, the Kneazle under the torture rack, near the still warm ashes, and the Snowy Owl on the top pillar of the altar. Since they were very tired from their long journey, they soon fell asleep.

***~***

When it was past midnight and the Death Eaters saw from the safe distance (far, far beyond the anti-apparition barrier) that there was no light in the house, and everything seemed peaceful, their leader, the Hungriest Death Eater said, "We shouldn't have let ourselves be scared out of our wits… so easily."

And he ordered the Most Expendable Death Eater to return and check out the house, "Go, but don't do any magic unless absolutely necessary. _They_ may have detecting wards and magical traps all around the place." 

Thusly encouraged, the Most Expendable Death Eater boldly tip-toyed toward his dangerous mission. 

When he found everything quiet, he went to the torture hearth to light a torch and mistook the Kneazle's glinting spectacles for live coals. So he held a Muggle match to them to light a fire, but the Kneazle did not appreciate the joke. He jumped into the Most Expendable Death Eater's face, hissing and scratching, and the wizard was so terribly frightened that he ran away and straight into the poison pot, fortunately (for him) empty, but unfortunately (for him, yet again) hard and resonant. 

The House-Elf lying there woke up, saw the white-masked face inches from his own and immediately began to wail, "Me sock!!! Oh, me poor sock!!! Gotcha you, sir bad thief, sir!!!" And he grabbed at the white facial cloth with all his might. 

The Death Eater desperately darted away, only to trip over the skulls and bones heap, where the rather displeased Thestral was busy struggling with his very own long black horse-cloth in an effort to stand up.

After a swift blind kick from Thestral's hind foot (not clad in any socks to soften the blow, mind you), the dark wizard landed right on the stone altar, unable to move for a while. Which was not such a bad thing, because the furious House-Elf was now shooting random _Refrigeratus_ curses across the room (as you remember, that was the only charm he could produce)…

All this time the not quite awake Snowy Owl was incessantly hooting, "Rats! I smell rats!" 

She too was contributing to the battle by frantically flapping her wings and hopping about – still wisely perched on her high pillar above the altar, though. 

And that was where a particularly nasty _Refrigeratus _found her. Instantly petrified and coated in a thick skin of ice, she felt down, right on The Mostly Expended Death Eater's long-suffering head. Were he fully awake, the blow would no doubt stun him senseless; but the poor dark fellow just couldn't be stunned and overwhelmed any more than he already was.

Firmly clutching the miraculously found ice-bag to his throbbing head, he gathered what was left of his strength for the last leap toward the door, rolled over the doorsill and ran as fast as his battered legs could carry him. And behind, the inconsolable House-Elf was still wailing, "Me sock!!! He took me sock!!! Alas to me!!! Alas to me dear!!!"

Half the way back the ice-bag started melting in his hand and he threw it off. But instead of dropping on the ground, upward it flew, sporting a pair of tiny wings and (of course!) a large, strong beak which neatly pecked the small balding spot on the top of dark wizard's head. Then the indignantly hooting enchanted ice-bag was gone… 

The Death Eater didn't remember well the last part of his journey back. He just collapsed at the Hungriest Death Eater's feet and for a while nobody was able to get any sense from him. When he regained the gift of articulate speech though, his tale was the one of horror beyond description.

"There's a gruesome Veela in the house! She transformed on me and scratched my face with her long claws. I narrowly escaped pushing her into burning ashes.

And then there's a Valiant Goblin Knight in enchanted armor who cowardly attacked me with a silent Suffocating Charm. And when I deflected the curse he began a horribly sounding ancient invocation, to summon this Unspeakable Mesopotamian Demon, _Mehssokamihpurras_…"

"Don't say his name!!!" hissed the Hungriest Death Eater, clearly mortified, while all those dark wizards who ever studied Ancient Runes promptly fainted.

"… but I knocked him over. I would've finished him for good if not for the bunch of Dementors who felt on me in this very instant. I felt their bony hands all over my body while I tried to shield my mind with the happiest memories I could remember. Only dreaming about that blissful moment when you, my Lord, first permitted me to kiss the precious hem of your sacred robe, gave me the strength necessary to break from their unholy attentions!!!"

And he bowed deeply to the Hungriest Death Eater before continuing with the tale. 

"At this point, bringing back the invaluable intelligence I've gathered became my main priority. So I made my way to our Dark Altar, once revered, now barbarously clean, basely defiled with soap and water… Oh, no, no. I just can't talk about it… Umm… Well, where was I?"

"You were in the presence of your Lord, reporting him some urgent invaluable intelligence", very calmly responded the Hungriest Death Eater.

"Eh… Right. So I just leapt on the Altar to get a better look on the battlefield, when the temperature in the room suddenly dropped to the freezing-point and a huge Ice Troll attacked me with his glacial club. I barely had the time to dodge the whizzing bludgeon. Just imagine, so far we had no idea that the Light Side started employing Ice Trolls as bodyguards! Now, that my intelligence became even more invaluable, I opted for an immediate retreat; even more so because while I was fighting my way toward the exit, the Goblin Knight came back to his senses and started his incantations all over again. Only now he was summoning _Alastor Moody_…"

The multiple "thuds" punctuated his words as all the remaining Death Eaters (including the Hungriest One) fainted as well. 

"So, I got my ass out of there as fast as I could …" somberly concluded the Most Expendable Death Eater, surveying the unresponsive bodies of his comrades, neatly prostrated at his feet.

**[A fairytales' most scary personage A. Moody actually has his origins in a real once-time Auror, whose "heroic deeds" were grossly exaggerated. D.U.]**

The morning after, all the four Bremen Town Magicians reported to the local magical authorities for a permission to stay in this place forever; and, eventually, the permission was granted, under the condition that they would stay clear off the Muggle town itself.

As for the Death Eaters, they were so terrified, that fled off the country altogether. And long, long since this fateful night they were still telling anybody who would listen about the horrors of the Bremen Forest, infested with dreadful White Magic.

***~* THE END *~***


	4. The Pink Beauty and the Piebald Beast

**Disclaimer:** See disclaimers A, B, and C on the title page of this book.

**Summary:** A fairy tales book for little wizards and witches. Approved as a pre-school reading by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. Revised Edition. Editor D. Umbridge

**A/N - To all my reviewers – thanks a lot for your warm support :) **

Also, I'm asking for your help in bombarding FFN with requests to add "Dolores Umbridge" in their list of HP characters. They have a special e-mail address for such purposes (for details see the FFN/Menu/Help section). 

* * *

**=xXx= THE PINK BEAUTY AND THE PIEBALD BEAST =xXx=**

In olden times, there lived an even older king in a big castle, who had many children; all of them (well, mostly) polite, bright and studious little princes and princesses. As children go, all of them (well, mostly) were rather lovely, but one princess was beautiful beyond your wildest dreams.

**[Now, now, my dears. That was meant merely as a figure of speech. It is not proper for such nice little boys and girls as you to have "wildest dreams" at your tender age. But, in case the aforementioned dreams still occur, don't deal with them on your own! Seek the help of your elders. D.U.]**

When sitting in her favorite pale pink dress, surrounded by her respectful brothers and sisters, she seemed to be like a sun-kissed rose among plain dandelions. So it wasn't surprising at all that, eventually, everybody started calling her simply La Belle Rose; and the first person to do so was her beloved fiancé – the brave and handsome Prince Chairman from the Metropolis.

In fact, she was so stunning, that the old king himself, who had seen and done so many things in his long life, was invariably filled with amazement each time he turned his eyes upon her lovely face. Many a house-elf had caught the sight of him, walking away after such an encounter while muttering to himself, "I can't believe this is all my own doing…." No wonder that the wise king proclaimed her as his heiress!

**[As it turned out later, he would have been even wiser if he could just keep his preferences to himself - such delicate matters of state are not intended for public use, not at all… but let's not get ahead of the story. D.U.]**

At first, the young princess tried to refuse the title, claiming that there were others, much more worthy of this honor. But the king has been _most persistent_; and between his persistence and the pleadings of all the courtiers and common people alike, the obedient daughter yielded to pressure and accepted the responsibilities of the Heiress to the Throne, albeit reluctantly.

As it was already said, the king, being the great, almighty, all-powerful, and omnipotent (which means _very_ potent) sorcerer he was, had sired many children throughout the years – "the more the merrier", as he was saying proudly each September, when, traditionally, the majority of his offspring was acquired.

**[With September being the ninth month of the year, relatively simple calculations show that long and dark Christmas nights contribute greatly towards increasing of one's omnipotence. As for the nature of this phenomenon, the Modern Theory of Magic provides no answers worth mentioning here. D.U.]**

In fact, there were so many children swarming the royal castle day and night, that nobody bothered anymore to catalog them all, and least of all the king himself. By some accounts, there were as many as several hundreds of them; some even claimed that the king had more children than smart robes, but that is clearly an exaggeration.

And most of them rejoiced from all their little loyal hearts, when La Belle Rose was proclaimed their queen-to-be; most of them, but not all. It must be admitted here, that some black sheep (namely, three) did find their way even into the blessed royal family. Over the years, those wicked children were becoming increasingly jealous of their beautiful sister, though they did not dare to speak ill of her loudly. And now, they solemnly vowed to be the death of her (whatever the cost and no kidding!)

**[Alas, my dears. True beauty and brilliancy are always bound to rouse envy and jealousy. D.U.]**

Nowadays, nobody remembers anymore what their real names were. Only the nicknames, given to them according to each one's basic nature, survived the flow of time: the _Plotter_, the _Deranged_, and the _Measly_.

Fortunately, the Heiress was as clever as she was beautiful, and easily prevented all their deranged and measly plots; yet they continued to come up with more. Still, the noble princess didn't want to bother their father the king with their petty intrigues, preferring to deal with them personally instead…

**[This is, yet again, a sign of true wisdom, as is befitting for a future queen. What is a better way, when dealing with children, than a gentle feminine touch anyway? D.U.]**

**=xXx= **

Now there was a big enchanted forest near the royal castle, where La Belle Rose liked to walk whenever she could afford a short repose from the burdens of state. And there, on the very edge of the forest, beneath an ancient willow tree, was a lovely small clearing which the princess favored most. It was a perfect place to gather morning dew here, or teach good manners to unicorns, or chinwag with snapdragons.

One fair morning, she was here as usual, tending to an ill bowtruckle, who broke its leg (or was it an arm?) yesterday.

And the princess was so busy helping him (or was it she?) that she didn't even notice that she has been watched…

While the kind-hearted maiden was tenderly bandaging its broken appendage (or was it broken at all?), the bowtruckle was spilling ambery tears of gratitude all over her delicate hands. The poor creature has been so grateful that the princess had to go to a nearby rivulet to wash her hands from all the sticky resins; but when she came back, her satin purse (color that of a frightened flamingo and embroidered with baby pearls and tiny rock crystals) was missing - she didn't want to use the word _stolen_. (Honestly, who would hanker after her plain every day's handbag?) So the princess asked everybody and looked everywhere, but all in vain. The purse was gone; and, the worst of all, the Great Quill of State, the most precious thing in the entire Kingdom, which she always kept in her purse, was gone as well!

Poor princess was in so much of distress about this loss that, who knows, she would even miss her lunch, if not for the personal invitation from her father the King! But, before going to the feast, La Belle Rose went to her quarters to change into new robes (perfectly matching her tearful eyes) and fetch another handbag. This time she chose her beloved fianc's early Easter present, which he gave her this very July, and which she never used before. It was an unpretentious but lovely velvet purse, embroidered with ruby cabochons, all in colors that of a _Playwizard'_s first-time reader's face…

**[Now, I sincerely hope that none of you, my sweet little wizards, was playful enough to reproduce _that_ particular color on your own. Suffice it to say, it is a deep shade of pink, close to that of this book's cover. D.U.]**

In the meanwhile, the king was staring at the mysterious letter he just found in his royal porridge. Somebody scratched on the bottom of the silver bowl:

_THE GREIT QILL OF STATE HASBIN SOLDAUT FOR A NEW PRETY BAG ENEMYS OF THE KINDOM REJOYS _

Naturally, the wise ruler wasn't at all impressed with such a semi-literate (to put it mildly) message. So, when La Belle Rose sat down, apologizing for being late and nervously clutching her brand-new purse, the king was firmly under-scratching all the spelling mistakes with his jeweled fork, all the while imagining the porridge bowl being the fattened-up roundish face of His Majesty's English Master (complexion that of a piglet under rain)…

It must be added here, that nobody ever got to know, what happened eventually to this unfortunate teacher, responsible for the education (or, in this case, non-education) of the royal family. The king himself, when being asked about the whereabouts of the missing sage, invariably responded with a highly obscure epitaph: "Too much lettuce"…

But let's go back to our narration. After ordering a second helping of porridge and transfiguring a napkin into a sheet of parchment, the king asked his favored heiress:

"Could I please borrow your quill, my dearest child? I absolutely _must_ write the new Educational Decree Number One Thousand One right now, while it's not too late to save at least some of my children from the miserable fate of illiterati."

She gladly handed him her favorite quill, color that of a sleepy dog-rose. But the king gave it back to her with a sigh.

"No, my dear. Not _this_ one."

She gave him another quill, color that of a bored geranium. The king just brushed it off the table with a deep frown.

"No, no, child, that's not what I want. Give me _another_ quill!"

She produced then a magnificent quill, color that of a fatigued rhododendron; only to have it been tossed furiously against the wall.

"No, you silly girl, no! Where's the _Black Quill _I gave you as an early Christmas gift this very April?!"

The poor princess hung her head in embarrassment and guilt.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I've lost it this very morning, along with my old purse."

But the angry king would have none of it.

**GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DON'T RETURN WITHOUT THE GREAT QUILL OF STATE!!!**

And, thus spoken, he turned back to his royal lunch. And the princess went back to her clearing, to try once more the Tracing Charm, though without much hope – she already performed it so many times in the morning…

But this time a shining arrow of palest pink appeared at her feet; and it was pointing directly towards the center of the Forgotten Forest! So inside the forest she went, crying bitterly about stolen quills, angry kings and missed lunches.

And all the while her tears kept falling on the ground in heavy glistening drops, self-transfiguring into large, beautiful (and extremely valuable too!) pearls….

Poor Princess! Little did she know, that it all was but an intricate trap to lure her into _the very heart_** [1] **of the Forgotten Forest, where, unbeknownst to authorities, took residence a horde of evil wild centaurs!!!

**[1] **** Reading through this book, one can't help but wonder, how many "hearts" actually are there in the ****Forgotten****Forest****? For the sake of all the confused little brains out there, I would advise to stick to the thought that "in the very heart" means just one of those few woodland thickets, which the enlightening powers of both the sun and the Magical Government still have some trouble yet to penetrate. D.U.**

**=xXx= **

Soon, she was so deep into the forest that the dense tree canopy blocked out all light. At last, she came upon a dim, dank clearing surrounded by rotten, crooked yews. And here, on a flat mossy boulder stood a squat quadrupedal beast with a manlike torso, below which was clumsily attached a horse's piebald body.

The centaur (as the creature obviously was one) didn't pay any attention to the beautiful maiden, standing here proudly in her modest traveling robes, color that of a fresh cut salmon, with snow-white satin kittens playing along the trim. He just kept on picking his long yellowish teeth with… with the Great Quill of State!

**[One may dispute (and rightfully so) why to assign the 'he' article to merely a beast, however magical. But in this case the exception emphasizing the beast's masculinity was absolutely necessary. You have to believe _me_ on this one, my dear innocent readers! D.U.]**

The princess even dropped her purse, so shocked she was with his lack of manners.

"Excuse me… eh… _sir_!" cried La Belle Rose with all the politeness she could muster. "May I ask you how did you come upon my quill?"

"Yours what?"

"The f-e-a-t-h-e-r. I was looking for it since the breakfast!"

The centaur just shrugged.

"Ah… that's why Mercury was so bright this morning..."

"Excuse me?!"

"Well, if you must know, a dirty-white owl dropped it on my head."

"Would you mind keeping your… eh… _hands_ away from your mouth when you're speaking with a lady… _sir_?" asked she even more politely.

"Don't you see it, human girl? I'm busy!"

"And would you mind treating my quill with some respect… _sir?_"

"Are you saying that this dusty chicken's tail is worth more than its mother-hen's maiden name?" leered the beast, without stopping the disgraceful mistreatment of the sacred artifact.

"This is the Great Quill of our Kingdom. It writes only Truth and nothing but Truth!"" exclaimed La Belle Rose shaking with indignation. "Oh, and by the way, _I_ am the Heiress to the Throne!"

The centaur scratched his ugly muzzle, obviously puzzled.

"What does it _right_?"

**[Needless to remind you, my dears, that all centaurs are illiterate and untamable by nature; that is a well known fact. This particular specimen just was reluctant to admit it. D.U.]**

"It _writes_, as in _written_, _wrote_, W-R-I-T-E," said La Belle Rose exasperatedly.

"Hmm. Looks just like usual owl droppings to me," snorted the beast.

At this, the Black Quill leapt from his thick hairy arms, elegantly soared upwards in the air, and wrote with bold sparkling letters (color that of a winter strawberry):

**YOU WILL PAY DEARLY FOR IT, YOU IGNORANT ODD-TOED BEAST!!!**

"You see?" exclaimed the princess triumphantly. "_Only the Truth. Nothing but Truth!_ Now, please give it back to me at once!"

But the centaur was just staring unblinkingly upwards at the neat calligraphic writing, shimmering in the evening air.

"Oh, yes! I can see it now," he whispered. "It's all written in the stars…"

"Stars?!" asked the princess. "It's not _that_ dark yet!"

"Shush", hissed the beast. "The Pluto is unusually bright tonight. And that means that…that…"

**I SHALL BE THE KING!!!**

Attracted by all the noise, around one hundred forty three centaurs were emerging now on every side of the mouldy glade, their muzzles flung skyward and their fingers pointing at the bright iridescent letters hanging in mid-air…

But their piebald leader was oblivious to their present as he continued with his interpretation of the written Truth…

**_I_ AM THE GREAT ALPHA CENTAUR OF THIS ****FOREST****!!!**

**_YOU_ SHALL MARRY ME AND BE MY FAVORITE NIGHT MARE!!!**

A roar of approval met these words, but La Belle Rose wasn't amused at all. She answered him calmly, not at all afraid of the foul creature:

** I WOULDN'T MARRY YOU IF IT WAS A CHOICE BETWEEN YOU AND A_ HALF-GIANT SQUIB. _**

The centaurs all around her gave cries of rage and reared onto their hind legs. A pine-cone flew so close to her head that it caught at the silken pink bow in her luxuriant golden hair, knocking it down in the process. Another cone left her without her wand. The piebald alpha-centaur threw back his head, his back legs stamping furiously, and bellowed:

"Take this stupid ungrateful mare away and lock her up in my personal stables! And don't give her any oats or hay! Not a single straw!"

Poor, poor princess! That was the second meal she was missing this day...

Locked alone, La Belle Rose turned her attention to the enchanted kittens sewn on her cloak; each kitten had a different bow around his neck. She lightly tapped one of them with her finger.

"You, Silver Bow, will go to the people outside the forest…"

The kitten mewed, springing on the floor. It took him but a moment to find a hole in the wattled fence and then he was off.

She tapped the second kitten then.

"You, Golden Bow, will go to the Castle and find my father the King…"

Sighing, she tapped the last of the kittens and scratched his head fondly.

"And you, my dearest Pink Bow, will go straight to my beloved Prince Chairman…"

**=xXx=**

****

Prince Chairman was unhappiest of princes. He spent the morning and the whole afternoon thinking about a perfect wedding present for his Princess, and still he had found none; nothing seemed to be good enough to appear before her beautiful eyes. With a heavy heart did he turn at last his attention to his dinner and today's post.

**Sturgeon and Grindylow Bouillabaisse…**

...Hunting license expiration notification… _Damn... _

...New chamber pot bottoms legislation… _Bon appetite, everybody... _

...Merpeople's petition against half-grindylows' rights… _Approved..._

**Truffled Niffler Ragout… **

...Tailor's bill for his new lime-colored cloak… _Signed..._

...Hunting license renewal application… _Filled in..._

**Red Currant Rum…**

...Half-grindylows' petition against merpeople's rights… _Approved..._

The young prince was eating, reading, and signing state-papers, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Maybe, if I order her wedding statue of pure goblin gold…" kept he thinking. "Ah, but she already got fifteen of those… Besides, she's too modest to accept it anyway…"

It was at this very moment that Pink Bow flew in through the high stained-glass window, skillfully riding a magnificent pearly-white Thestral. The valiant kitten gracefully sprang off the Thestral's back and straight into the garden gnome salad.

"Hello, Kitty!!!" cried the prince excitedly, not at all sorry about the ruined salad (or the broken window, for that matter). "Did you bring me a word from my beloved Princess?"

Pink Bow mewled in response and dropped a dirty scrap of a fine silken underskirt (color that of an embarrassed edelweiss) into the golden salad bowl. The prince recognized it immediately.

**[Of course Prince Chairman couldn't possibly know the actual color of his fiancée's underwear yet. Nor would such an eminent and virtuous statesman spend his time trying to guess it. He just felt the truth with his heart – and this is what I call a true love! I wish the same could be said for all the little cheaters out there who practice illegal uses of highly polished ballroom floors and _Transparentio_ charms. D.U.]**

Oh, _Ma Belle Rose_! Here I come! Show the way, my fearless fluffy messenger!" With that he grabbed Pink Bow and off they Apparated…

Once at the edge of the Forgotten Forest, the prince and his fuzzy companion followed the glittering trail of pearls, deeper and deeper into the forest, until it became too dark to see their path clearly.

"Alas, even my powerful _Omnilumos_ spell is failing to work properly in this place!" cried Prince Chairman in desperation, tiredly leaning against a nearby tree. There was a high-pitched chattering overhead and the prince looked up to see an extremely agitated bowtruckle. The timber-headed creature was flexing at him one of its long twig-like appendages, which was bandaged in all too familiar way (peach colored silken ribbon sealed with silver safety pin).

"Let me guess," exclaimed the perceptive young man. "You are filled up to the last bud with gratitude and loyalty towards our dear Princess!"

The bowtruckle vigorously nodded with its head (or was it a head?).

"And you're simply _burning_ with the desire to help us!"

The bowtruckle nodded again.

"So be it!" Prince Chairman waved his wand gracefully, and a bright green flame erupted from the selfless timberling's summit.

"Thank you, my enlightened little friend. Now, let's waste no more time!"

And, holding his new torch up high, the prince rushed down the narrow, winding path that disappeared into the dense, dark trees…

They had just passed another bend in the path when a clearing suddenly appeared ahead through the tangled branches of an ancient yew. The prince slowed to a walk, warning the kitten to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches.

Together, they made their way through the circle of yews and into the clearing. There, beneath a mossy boulder, something bright was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the pink ribbon from La Belle Rose's golden hair! And, not far from it, lying in the mud was her wand (sandalwood, fairy tail, long and graceful)… But as the prince stretched out a hand toward it, Pink Bow mewed in warning. A heavy hoof descended upon the wand and it broke cleanly in half. The air was suddenly full of neigh and trampling of hooves - they were completely surrounded by multi-colored centaurs…

Tall, handsome and stately in his new lime-green outfit, stood Prince Chairman in the face of this menace.

"I am here to keep company to my Princess!" said he proudly.

Some of the centaurs bellowed their approval and others laughed raucously.

A dun-colored centaur shouted, "Sure, why not! He can join the human mare!"

"Yes, Ganymede is _so_ _pretty_ tonight," observed a palomino centaur, to more neighing roars of approval from his fellows.

"What?!" cried Prince Chairman a bit nervously. "Perhaps you thought us pretty bipedal horses?!"

"Well… Aren't you?"

"You are lucky that my hunting license expired!" exclaimed the angry prince. "According to law, any attack by a magical creature on a human is illegal and is punished by –"

"Rubbish!" snorted their wild-looking leader, kicking his piebald hindquarters in impatience. "Law Eighty One XS states clearly that 'Any magical creature, which is deemed to have under-human intelligence, is therefore considered non-responsible for its actions. '… _And, as our intelligence, thankfully, falls far behind your own_ –"

But they didn't get to hear all the consequences of centaurian low intelligence, for at this very moment there came a loud swishing noise on the edge of the clearing; several yews bended ominously and a magnificent postal eagle swept in through the gap, and imperiously dropped a golden-trimmed forest-green parchment into Prince Chairman's outstretched hand. The centaurs in the surrounding circle went quite silent, staring up at the letter.

"What is _this_?" asked the piebald lawyer, looking slightly worried now.

"Oh, this…" responded the prince casually. "Nothing, really… Just –"

**MY NEW AND IMPROVED HUNTING LICENSE!!!**

The centaurs nearest him backed into those behind.

"Oh, and by the way, it's _September the First _today...The start of the new Shooting Season…Or have the planets not let you in on that secret, um? ... Well?.."

The centaurs just stood there, transfixed, while the minutes dragged by. Finally, Pink Bow the Lion Heart roared with rage and pawed the ground; and, as though given the right hint, the cowardly creatures ran, as fast and as far as they could.

For a while the prince and his companions could hear them retreating in complete disorder, crashing away through the undergrowth. Soon there was nothing but the rustling of leaves around them. Prince Chairman looked skywards on the magnificent mauve dawn.

"I believe that Venus is _extremely_ bright this morning," said he, heading straight for the stables.

**=xXx=**

****

Meanwhile, a whole party of belligerent wannabe-saviors was gathering at the edge of the Forgotten Forest; almost ready to set off towards the rescue mission. They were headed by the great king, who was looking splendid in his new robes, color that of ripened cherry, richly embroidered with golden horseshoes and silver spurs. Flanking the liberation army were two heroic kittens – Silver and Golden Bows.

Now, just imagine all their joy and happiness when La Belle Rose, arm-in-arm with gallant Prince Chairman, suddenly emerged from behind the trees!...

And, after hearing her story, all those people began wondering, who might have stolen the Great Quill in the first place.

"Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime," said the old king pensively, twirling the precious black quill between his long fingers. La Belle Rose had a pretty good idea about the '_who(s)_'. Of course, being generous of heart and kind of spirit she just replied "I have no idea, who could have done it, Your Majesty."

But at this very moment the Great Quill of State suddenly leapt from his venerable hands, flew up and started writing of its own accord. Thus, the unworthy names and the awful deeds of the three underage culprits became finally known to the world…

House-elves brought a barrel studded with nails on the inside, and filled it to the brim with poisonous snakes and baby acromantulas. The evil children were brought before the court, and given an agonizingly bitter poison without sugar, then put into the barrel. The lid was hammered on, and then the barrel was filled with boiling oil, and rolled down the hill into the castle's lake – where they all choked with muddy water, caught cold, and drowned.

**[A rather severe punishment, indeed. But, I'm sure, my sweeties, you will agree with me that all this was done well within educational purposes and for their own benefit. D.U.]**

The old king died shortly after those events and La Belle Rose became the Queen. At her wedding the bride wore a gorgeous gown (color that of a Damask rose), with three kittens proudly holding the tail of her long ermine mantle. As for the prince, he found at last the perfect wedding gift for his beloved - a wide alley has been hewn through the Forgotten Forest, following the earlier trail of her precious pearly tears…

In the many prosperous years to follow, both the King and Queen enjoyed greatly to promenade this picturesque avenue, illuminated with pink and lime-green loyal bowtruckles, and artfully paved with polished centaurian hooves.

People named the alley _Via De La Rose_.

**THE END**


End file.
